Buck's Nuts Slamboree!

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

When I was younger, primarily in my late teens and early 20's, I was told I was kind of a creeper, mainly by females, usually to my face. I used to get upset about that, but I'm almost 30 now, and I don't give a shit anymore. One of my favorite things to do at work is what I call Milk Cooler Creepin', where I will be stocking the milk behind the scenes in the dairy cooler and check out the butts of any semi-hot chick that walks by without her having the slightest idea because I'm hiding behind jugs of milk. I love it and I don't care what any of you judgmental fucks think about me. Well, recently I was put firmly in my place by a teenage girl. Here is the story.

Recently at the Vo-Tech we had a team-building day with everyone in the building. All us students got together in one big pile where we had to find the person who had the piece of paper with our name on it, and then get into the numbered group that was on our paper. After we get into separate big groups, we had to find three other people in that group that we didn't know and form a small group and get to know each other. I turn to whatever was next to me, and told him we are in a group now. He seemed ok, or didn't care enough to argue. Some other dude shows up and joins us. Out of the corner of my eye I see some chick walk up. I check her out. She's pretty cute and was wearing a cheerleader outfit. I can deal with that. She kind of says something to the two other guys, and it seems they are in the same class, so they shouldn't be in the group. Well, she walks right up next to me, gently caresses my arm, and says, "Ok. You two leave. I'm with this guy." Fuck.

Thankfully the two dudes hang out, and we proceed to do one of the "team building" exercises where we had to lead a marble from one little length of PVC pipe to the other without touching it. We cheated, so we were done first. That allowed us the time to get to know each other. The two guys just stood there, while the girl started talking to me. God dammit. She's making small talk about what that exercise was supposed to help with and some other stuff. I didn't want to be a prick, so I gave her polite, short answers, hoping that the other two guys would chime in. Nope. She then says that she is in a band, and that she plays lead guitar. That caught my attention. Not because, "OMG gurl who play geetar HaWt!" I like hearing local music, and she might be a really good guitarist, but she's also no older than 18. If my youngest brother can date you, you are too young for me. Then the big group had to get together and do the same thing but with, like, 30 people. I take this opportunity to slip into the crowd and lose her. Everything seemed to be working perfectly. We had to do the exercise three times because people kept dropping the damn marble. On try number three my newest fan finds me again and dives in next to me. Shit.

Thankfully it was at this point that our big group had to go to another area to do some other game. I see a sea of people and dive into the middle of it, trying to escape her as politely as a mad rush towards the middle of a group can be. I lose her again, and the group does some goofy version on Simon Says. After we finish it is time to eat. As we are all walking to the food area...she appears next to me again. *Sigh*

Luckily I find a buddy from my class and lose her again in the original giant group. He and I get some grub, and sit down next to another one of our classmates in a table that seats four. Eventually it was announced that it was time for the high schoolers to get back to the buses and head back. I let out a sigh of relief because I was finally rid of her. She seemed perfectly nice, and was certainly cute, but still: A teenager. My table of three was eating and chatting when I see movement out of the corner of my eye. Apparently she decided to hang back from the group. Mother fuck. She approaches the table, notices that I have entirely too much empty seat to my immediate right, and asks if she can sit there. At times like this I wish I were prick, but I'm not, so I said she could, and proceed to do my damnedest to ignore her, hoping she would go get on her damn bus. I turn my body away from her, and start talking to whoever was in that direction. After a few minutes I notice something. I have my hand/arm on the table. Her hand/arm is on the table, and it slowly inching its way towards mine. I suddenly get very animated with whatever the hell I was talking about. Thank every god ever, one of the teachers comes up and announces for the second time that ALL high schoolers have to get on the buses. The creeper finally leaves. My teacher comes up and reminds us that we are not to touch the high schoolers.

I don't know when I got "game" or "swag" or what-the-fuck-ever it's called these days, but I'd like to return it. Recently there have been a couple of young ladies that have decided to be all friendly towards me. Where the fuck was all this attention when I could have done something about it? Actually, judging from the way I used to dress/look/act, I don't really blame any girl for avoiding me. Regardless, this is bullshit and should stop.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

It's Wednesday night. I have two tests on Friday that I have to study for, a good sized book to read for a four page report due Wednesday (barely even started reading the book), and a pretty big group project that I have to organize for my on-line class that may or may not be due tonight. Staring at all the crap I have to do in a very short amount of time, I have decided to sit here, drink some manly Smirnoff, and write here instead because I am very dedicated to this whole college thing.

I've been in college for two years now. This should be my last semester, but math happened, which put me behind. I realize now that if I had tried to do college right after high school, there is no way I would've made it this far. 10 years later, I have a better appreciation for the whole experience, and am willing to put up with the bullshit that college students have to go through.

Before I even started, I assumed that I would just hate every "young adult" that I would have classes with. People aged 18-23 generally just irritate the shit out of me. They think they know shit, when they wouldn't know, to quote the immortal Gorilla Monsoon, "A wrist lock from a wrist watch." Basically, they don't know a damn thing. However, what I have noticed is that, for the most part, these young kids are basically cool for the most part. Most of the ones I've had classes with are focused and actually contribute to discussions really well. I'm not ashamed to say that I may have made a couple of "young adult" friends in my tenure thus far. They might not say the same about me, but I really don't care. What surprised me is how some of the "adults" act. In one of my earlier classes, there was this big, burly, biker-looking dude who knew everything. Period. The journeys he has had gave him very intimate knowledge about the struggles in the third world countries we were discussing. Even though there were times that he was flat out wrong on all accounts, he refused to back down because he was old and wise and the teacher didn't know shit, obviously. There was an older lady in my computer class that all but demanded special attention from the teacher because she was an old lady and didn't understand how a keyboard worked. On more than one occasion an an "adult" has attempted to lead class using their "knowledge" about whatever bullshit they could come up with. Seeing this has given me a more realistic view on things. Not all young people are jackasses, and age does not equal wisdom.

The thing I find the most useless in a real world application would be college level math. I can see its usefulness if a student is going into a math or science related field, but come on. Art majors shouldn't need college algebra. Anything above Intermediate Algebra should not be required. I spend about two months in College Algebra, and I can without a shadow of a doubt that that level of math has little to no real world application to anyone outside of the math/science fields. None. At all. If anyone can think of any reason why a nurse would need to know how to figure imaginary numbers, I would love to hear it.

As far as English classes go, they are far more useful at this level. In high school, I remember being bored to tears with English. All the diagramming of sentences, and all that other crap I don't remember could just go fly a kite. In college, it has a far more practical use, at least here at NCMC. Learning how to write various different types of papers is highly useful. Hell, learning how to write properly period seems to be becoming less and less important. Just check your Facebook friend activity or whatever it's called. I can guarantee you that most of the people that post on there can't write for shit. I think that if high school classes focused more on writing papers and less on the different parts of the sentence, our English scored would improve. If nothing else, learning how to research information might improve interest in learning.

On to less education-related stuff, since I think I'm drinking a little too fast and don't really feel like thinking. I have learned how pick and choose what I study for. Take this semester for instance. I have two history classes. One of them is American History Up to 1877, and Western Civilization Since 1700. Now there are times where the information from the two classes sync up, which is awesome. Most of the time they do not, which is not awesome. The notes for Am. History (already prepared by the teacher) tend to be anywhere from 10-50 pages. Western Civ. is about 10-20, depending on what I write down since we are in charge of our own note taking. Guess which class I study for. Here is a hint: American History grade is around 80%. Western Civilization grade is around 89-90%. If there are too many notes, I'm not going to read them. I find history a little more interesting than I did 10 years ago, but not enough to read 50 pages of boring shit. Oh, and those are just the pages of notes. It is also recommended that we read the chapters in the book. American History chapters are, at the very least, 30 pages a piece, and each test covers three chapters usually. There's no way I'm reading all that shit. I honestly don't know why I bother getting text books. The only books I have opened have been my math books, my Health Education book, my Ethics book when the teacher told us to, and my World Literature book. My English books, Sociology, biology, physical science, all those others books just took my money to never really be opened.

There has been a little discussion going around lately about whether college is actually worth the money. My answer is maybe. Fortunately for myself, my actual classes are basically paid for because I am on the Pell Grant (being poor has its advantages). I do have a student loan that I get every year, which is around $3500. By the time I'm finished, assuming tuition and all those other costs don't go up too much, I should owe somewhere in the area of $12-15 thousand, which doesn't compare to what some people owe. If you can get a good job right out the gate after college, you should be fine. Some people are not that lucky. A buddy of mine, who was pretty damn good at digital animation (I think that's what it was called), has spent the past few years trying to find any sort of job relating to what he went to school for with no luck. It really depends on what you go to school for, and how aggressive you are after graduating in your job hunt. Some smart people get themselves into internships to better increase their chances. I'd like to become a journalist, but I know that English careers aren't doing real well right now. That is why I plan on getting my certification for Computer Network Administration Technician after my get my Associates. English careers might not be that needed, but we will always need computer dorks, and I plan on being one of them.

I've ran out of steam and stuff to talk about. Listen up kiddies: College is not that bad, as long as you are smarter than people like me and actually set aside some time to get your homework, projects, or whatever else you might have to do so you aren't rushing everything at the last minute. Understand that if you don't have someone footing the bill, you will have debt that might take a long time to pay off. The economy is dog shit currently, so any job is hard to come by, which is why you should try to get shit going ahead of time. Finally, most college kids aren't too bad, and some of us adults are damn idiots. Thank you and good night.

Monday, March 26, 2012

When I was a wee little lad, I basically believed in God. Well, as much as a child can believe in something like that. As I grew older, I felt less and less like waking up early to go to church, and on Wednesdays I preferred to sit around, watch TV, play video games, or go hang out with friends. It took a few more years for me to come to terms with my lack of belief. A major factor in that decision was when I went to a summer church camp with a couple of the kids from the neighborhood we lived in at the time. After having what little money I had stolen, basically being avoided by everyone for whatever reason, and just having a horrible time all around (I don't remember any concrete details, as I was maybe 13 at the time), I decided that if that is how religious people wanted to act, then I didn't want to have anything to do with them. Moving through my teenage years, I basically became an atheist, which led to a couple of awkward conversations with some of my friends who were deeply religious and concerned about my soul or whatever. I appreciated it, but really didn't have any time for any of that. For the majority of my teenage years, I was a pretty serious atheist, because I was a teenager, and thus I knew everything. As the years have gone by, I have a much more relaxed view on the whole religion thing. If anything, I am an agnostic, unless someone is aggressively trying to "convert" me, then I just lean back on my atheism, mostly to get them to leave me the hell alone. I realize that there is no real way to prove whether or not God actually exists until we die, and at that point, who are we going to tell?

As a whole, I have no real issue with any religion. The idea of religion has done no real damage to anyone ever. I have always viewed the Bible as a book that serves as a guideline to being a good person. Granted, some of the stuff in the Old Testament is pretty extreme, but those stories were told to help straighten people out. The "fear of God" is a pretty powerful thing, and can be a very good motivator. It's when people start taking the stories from the Bible and try to use them to affect what other people do that I cannot stand. The best example I can think of is homosexuality. I will admit that I'd rather not see two big, burly dudes go at each others' business, but I also understand that what they do is their business, and is none of mine. If they want to stick things in each others butts, as long as they don't ask for my help, then I'm cool with it. Once the more opinionated of the religious got wind of the idea of homosexuality, it all went to shit. Then government officials threw their hats into the fray. Holy shit. Thankfully, homosexuals are finally starting to get the rights they should've always had. The treatment of homosexuals are only a couple of baby steps above what we used to do to African Americans, and that's mostly because most of us don't go around, trying to kill them. It's fucking ridiculous. If two grown adults want to be a couple, get married, and grow to hate each other like every other couple, who cares if they both have matching parts? I hope that we have a gay president before I die. The only real issue I have with anything relating to homosexuality is the cross dressing, and that's really only because most guys make some horrible looking women. I'm all about doing what you want, but come on. Do something extra to make yourself look sexy if you're going to dress as the opposite sex. Anyway...

On a related note, I hope Fred Phelps and his Westboro Baptist Church fucking die. Seriously, he and his crew should be executed and I will dance the happiest dance of joy the day that man dies. Hopefully in a fire. With the rest of his family. Moving on.

One thing I have noticed about being an agnostic/atheist is that other religions don't exactly appreciate it. I vividly remember a time when I was banned from my friends grandparents and, if I remember correctly, parents house. What had happened was a couple of us were over at his grandparents house, staying up late and hanging out in the living room, probably playing video games or watching anime. Apparently, I said something regarding religion. I say apparently because I don't have any recollection of it, since the two friends I was with were deeply religious, and I'd like to think that I'd at least keep my mouth shut about that topic around them. I guess I didn't, and his grandparents heard it somehow. A few days or so later I learn that I'm not allowed back there because of whatever I said. I understand why they'd be upset, but to be banned is a little much. I think a similar episode happened with his parents, but I'm not exactly sure. Another example happened in my first semester of college. I had to give a speech for my Speech class, and I decided it was a good idea to talk to a class full of religious people about how being an atheist doesn't make you evil. We had to post our speech topic on a discussion board where we would all comment on each others topics. A couple said they were interested in hearing what I had to say, and that they agreed with me. However, most of them said that if they were talking to an atheist they would choose to dismiss them based solely on the fact that they did not believe in God. That reaction didn't surprise me one bit. Most religious people seem to be all for religious freedom as long as you agree with what they believe in.

I'm losing my steam and getting off track, but the basic gist of what I'm talking about is this: For a group that worship Jesus, who has been said to be a peaceful man who loved everyone regardless of their flaws, Christians and Catholics and all the others seem to have a lot of hate for a lot of different people, mostly because they don't agree. If anyone out there reads this, and is deeply religious, and hates anyone for any reason simply because they have some different view of what is acceptable (sexuality, religion, whatever), maybe you should read a little more about what your savior preached.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

My World Literature teacher asked us to share a story that relates to what Odysseus went through in the epic poem "The Odyssey." Since it has to be true, I could only think of one story. This is all 100% fact.

While watching the Odyssey, I remembered a time in my life that is strikingly familiar to the film. My girlfriend and I went on a trip to the city, where we stopped at Fudruckers for a bite to eat. It was there that I tackled the challenge of eating a TWO POUND cheeseburger. As a lover of all things cheeseburger, I knew that I had to eat the entire thing, otherwise I am not a real man. After an epic battle of wills between me and my meaty nemesis, I emerged victorious. It was the proudest moment of my life. As I was standing on the table, bellowing out my battle cry, a roaming band of Vikings kicked the doors in. Too preoccupied with my unearthly roar, I did not notice them charging me from behind. I started spinning around just in time to see a massive war hammer thundering towards my skull. All went black. When I awoke, I noticed that my girlfriend was gone. I asked one of the servant girls where she went, and she told me that the Vikings took her. As I stood, eyes fixed upon the horizon, the young wench asked me what I wanted to do with my cheeseburger eating trophy. I told her that if I do not return before her son grows a beard, they were to give it to someone else. She said something about not having a child, but I was not listening. I tightened up the laces on my combat boots, and set off. For vengeance.

As a Viking myself, I have known where all the local Vikings hang out my entire life, so I headed towards the nearest unpillaged village. Unfortunately, they were nowhere to be found. As I strolled through, a figure emerged. Upon closer inspection, he was a giant of a man who had suffered a lasting injury to his eye at some point, as he was wearing an eye patch. Brandishing a large club-like object, he obstructed my path. I asked if he had seen any Vikings lately, which he found hilarious apparently, because he started laughing, which only served to infuriate me further. As he was laughing, I charged him. I leaped towards his head, and buried my hand into his eye, and pulled it out. He clutched his open eyeball wound, screaming “Nobody does this to Polyphemus!” Turning my back to him, walking off in the distance, I said, “My guidance counselor always said I would grow up to be a…” I paused to put my sun glasses on. “…Nobody.” Then I snapped my fingers, and he exploded as someone screamed “Yeeeaaahhh!” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” by The Who started playing. I marched on.

After several years of traveling and killing bad guys, I finally located the Vikings that stole my girlfriend. Most of them, having heard the tales of my bloody crusade across the lands, fled, because they knew better. However, one man stayed behind. As I approached him, he informed me that he would release my girlfriend back to me, but on one condition: I had to defeat the incredible beast Scylla. I informed him that I butter my toast with Scylla every morning, and demanded he take me to the creature. As he led up to the cliff side overlooking the horrible creature, I shoved the Viking over the cliff, into the waiting maw of the abomination because I am a man, not a moron. To my surprise, when it ate the Viking, it began to shake. Seconds later, it exploded. “Hmm,” I said. “I guess it was a vegetarian.” I found my girlfriend, we hopped on my portable bag of air, and we flew home.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

There comes a time in every male's life that he must journey from childhood to manhood. While everyone enters "adulthood" at 18, it usually takes a special event to truly make a man a man. That day came to me when I had decided to take my decade of martial arts experience, and test it out in an amateur cage fight. Just a short time after my 25th birthday, I signed the paper to what would be me almost getting beaten to death. After dropping almost 20 pounds to fight at 140 lbs, and upping my training to help prepare, I felt I was ready to show everyone just how badass I was. Oh, how wrong I was.

Allow me to take you on a journey. You see, when I heard that my opponent was a very good high school wrestler, naturally I assumed that he was going to try to use his wrestling background to his advantage. I practiced my take down defenses for a few weeks, and got decent at them. My ju jutsu was good enough that I didn't have to worry too much about what would happen if/when he did take me down. With that being said, here is a timeline of events as I experienced them:

2:35 : We touch gloves, and circle. I, expertly, position myself with my back close to the cage. You know, so I can't get away from his punches. He throws a test jab, I lob my foot up towards his face, which he sees as an opening.
2:45 : I notice something rocketing towards my face.
3:08 : I wake up. I am confused. I was just standing up. How could I be on my back? I assumed we were still fighting.
3:44 : After holding on for deal life long enough to remember how this whole ju jutsu thing works, I attempt an arm bar, only to realize just how strong this son of a bitch is. So I throw weak-ass punches to the side of his hair.
4:00 : He leans back, I see that familiar rocket coming towards my face again. I decide it's a good time to fall back asleep.
4:12 : I wake up while screaming "Matte!" at the ref. FYI, matte means "wait" in Japanese, or in this instance, "God dammit, get him off of me!" The ref saves my life, and Bobby celebrates as I lay there for a second. I barely remember hearing my sensei ask me if I need help walking. I don't say anything, opting instead to just lean on him as he walks me back up the stairs.

You may have noticed there are a few gaps in my memory. That is because those times are when I stumbled upon time travel. Some may call it "being unconscious," but those people are wrong. Literally the only thing that kept this fight going for longer than 30 seconds is the fact that, after he punched my eyes into the back of my skull, I fell against the cage, thus was "able" to "stand" for a little bit longer. Until I went for a expertly executed throw, which landed me on my back. So scientists, listen up. The secret to time travel is having someone try to put their fist through your head. Surprised it hadn't been thought of before.

So yeah. That is my attempt at a cage fight. After gaining what little composure I had back, I congratulated Bobby on his victory, and then we all went to eat at Hardie's. For some reason, the people working the counter that night looked at me really weird. For the life of me, I can't imagine why.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

As a continuation of my previous post, here are a couple of tales from my time as a front desk clerk. These stories wouldn't make much of an article individually, so I slammed three of them together. Enjoy my suffering.

Old Lady vs Parking LotI'm working the front desk at the hotel one night, when an old ladycomes in. She wants a room for the night. I give her one. She asks where she can park, and I instruct her to drive around to the other side of the building to the very clearly visible and large parking lot that has other cars parked within it. She takes her key, goes back to her car, and she begins to drive off. I watch as she pulls back onto the road and takes off towards the highway. I assume that she is going to take care of whatever other business she has, and think nothing else of it.

About five minutes later she drives back to the front of the hotel. As she walks towards me, I can tell she is a little irritated. She asks me where the parking lot is again, and again I tell her it's on the other side of the building, complete with me pointing the direction for her to go. She accepts the answer, and goes back to her car. This time I watch her, and she gets back on the road and heads towards the highway again. I am befuddled. Roughly five minutes later she comes back, angry at me because I keep giving her wrong directions to the parking lot. Now, I'm not much of a people person, especially when it comes to dumb people. When she got huffy and puffy with me over my directions, it took every ounce of my being to not yell back and/or laugh. Since this old lady is clearly missing some important parts in her brain, I very calmly and slowly explain to her that if she drives forward, stays off of the road, and just drive right along side the building, she will find the parking lot quite easily. She was still pissed as she left, and actually found the parking lot this time.

Naturally, the next day I came in and discovered that she filed a complaint against me to the manager, so I got wrote up. Dumb ass old broad.

Grandma and Grandpa Want Some Alone TimeSitting around behind the front desk again, and an old couple and what I assumed where their grand kids come in. They get a single room with two beds, and take off (they managed to find the parking lot). A little while later the old guy comes down and asks if we have any kind of divider he can rent. I'm sure I looked at him a little funny, since no one had ever asked if we had something like that. He goes on to explain that he and his wife, direct quote, "want some alone time." I stare at him for a few seconds, and then ask, "What?" He repeats himself. Grandma and Grandpa wanna hump, but don't want to kids to see it. I tell him that I would see if I can find anything for him, but I didn't think we had anything. I tell him I'd give his room a call, and he heads back to his room. I didn't even bother to look, so I called and gave him the negative.

He comes back down about an hour later. Apparently he and his wife really want to get some nasty, so he asks if it is possible to get another room. I tell him yes, and gave him the price of another room. He doesn't like the thought of paying for two rooms, and asks if they could just split the cost of one room over both rooms. Basically, he wanted a free room for the kids to roam around in while they slap their genitals together. Again, I look at him confused, and tell him that there is no way I can do that, and I would probably get fired if I did. I make the offer of a second room again, but he doesn't have enough money for it, so he just sadly walked back to his room.

I felt kind of bad for him. Old man just wanted to get him some, but there wasn't anything I could do unless he was willing to pay.

The Day I Almost Beat Two Guys with a ClubTowards the end of my tenure at the hotel as a front desk clerk, these two road workers came in. I'll call them Frank and Dan. From day one, they were a constant pain in my ass. They didn't like the weekly rate we gave them, which was about $20 a night under the regular price. They demanded to see the list of our taxes, which I refused to show them, mostly because I didn't think we even had such a list. If they didn't have the same room from week to week, they were pissed. They didn't understand the pre-authorization process (basically, a pre-auth makes sure you have enough money on your credit/debit card to cover the room and any other charges), and that pissed them off. For about a full month, every week day they would come down to bitch at me for one reason or another, and every time I would have to explain to them that I couldn't do anything because all the management went home at 5pm, so I was the only person there and they would have to wait until the morning to talk to anyone in charge. They never understood that very complicated idea, so we argued every day.

The day I almost snapped on them was a day from hell. I came in to work, and was told that we had a very large bus tour coming in and would be giving the hotel a large sum of money, so they took priority over the other guests. So all the road/construction/railroad workers that were used to getting their way would be pissed, and guess who would have to deal with them. Lucky me. After about four or five hours of dealing with large, pissed off workers complaining about not getting the same rooms they usually got, Dan shows up. He is talking on his cell phone as he goes to check in. He and Frank usually get a smoking room, but because of the tour they didn't get one, though we were able to put them on the bottom floor, which has a door to the outside so they can still smoke. As he is filling out the paper work, I point out to him that we had to move them to a different room, which he was ok with. I also informed him that it was a non-smoking room, and pointed out our Non-Smoking Policy (if they smoke in the room, we WILL charge them $250, since it is a non-smoking room). I point out the highlighted $250 on the paperwork, and make him sign it, which means he understands the non-smoking portion. He signs it, gets his key, and goes to his room.

Frank shows up about 20 minutes later. He is not talking on the phone, so I have his undivided attention. I inform him that they are in a different room, that it is a non-smoking room, that he has to sign the Non-Smoking agreement, all of that. He fills the paper out, signs his name at the bottom, takes his key, and goes to the room. Low and behold, about 15 minutes later here they come, and they look PISSED. They bitch about not having the same room they usually do. I inform them that I told them both about the room change, and they both said that it was fine. Dan said he was on his phone, so I should have made it more clear. I agree with him, but point out that Frank was not incumbered in any way, and he was fine with it. Then they get into the non-smoking thing. They bitch and bitch and moan and complain, they reserved a smoking room, smokers have rights too, etc etc. I wait for them to stop, calmly take out their individual paper work, and point out that they both signed the non-smoking clause and said they understood it. Dan said he was on his phone, yadda yadda. I ask if he always signs things without understand what he's signing for, and then point out that I had Frank's complete attention, so if he wanted to complain, he should have done so before he signed it. They continue to yell at me, and I just sit back in my chair, and tell them that if they want to do anything about it, they will have to do so in the morning when management is there. They huff and puff their way back to their room.

About an hour later they come back down. They are both smoking as they walk into the lobby. Our lobby is a non-smoking lobby. They come to tell me that they can smoke wherever they want. They give the hotel almost $400 a week, and that gives them the right to do whatever they want. I tell them that for the same price, they can rent out an apartment for an entire month. Frank blows smoke in my face. I'm a smoker, so it didn't bother me too much, but it did strike me as very disrespectful. I inform them that our lobby is non-smoking, to which they laugh. I then tell them that if they don't leave the lobby, I can have them removed from the hotel, I would charge them $250 a piece for smoking in the lobby, and I would charge them the regular, full price for their room. They said I didn't have the power to do that, which is true. So I called the general manager, informed him of what was going on, and he gave me the go-ahead. I handed the phone to Dan so he could hear it straight from the boss man's mouth. Dan tried to pull some shit, but boss man wasn't having any of it, and told Dan that either they could smoke outside, or stay at another hotel. Dan hangs the phone up, and he and Frank continue to bitch. While this is happening, I just keep thinking about a "key ring" we have that has all the master keys and maintenance keys on it. When I say "ring," I actually mean a solid, wooden club that's about a foot and a half long, and about an inch thick. All I really wanted to do was take the club, and smash them in the face with it. Since I didn't want to go to jail for murder, I instead sat back down in my chair, and told them that if they want to keep bitching, they will have to do so in the morning. They get all red-faced, and head back to their room.

Later that night, I wrote my resignation, telling management that if I didn't quit, I was going to assault them with the club, and probably bring a lawsuit upon the hotel. They appreciated my honesty, and let me resign.

Two weeks after I quit, Frank and Dan fucking left, and never came back.

So, in conclusion, if you ever stay at a hotel, please be nice to the front desk clerks. You never know if they have a solid, blunt object at the ready.

Monday, July 11, 2011

I have spent about two and a half years working in the hotel business. I spent four months as a front desk clerk, two years as a janitor/bed maker/maintenance man, and have recently began a job as a house keeper. In my time working in the hotel business, my eyes have been opened to a whole world I never knew existed. I knew that people can be absolutely disgusting. I've seen things in the four-ish years as a janitor to know that when people leave their homes, they do not give half a shit around being clean and tidy. However, when I started helping the house keepers by making the beds in their rooms, I was impressed by the condition people leave their rooms in. One of my favorite rooms that I, thankfully, did not have to help with, was the Orgy Room.

I go in to work one Sunday, already knowing that the day will suck. Sundays used to be the busy days at that point, and after I finished with my janitor duties, I would help the house keepers by making their beds, which could take four or five extra hours some days. This day was no different. I finish my janitor crap, and begin making beds. An hour or so later, one of the keepers yelled for me. She told me that I "have to see this room." Immediately I am excited. Every time I am told that I must see something, I am filled with a sense of joy. I bound down the hall to the room she was in, enter the room, and am stopped dead in my tracks.

I have heard that from time to time, sex parties get thrown, even in the crappy little town I live in. I have never seen the aftermath of one, so when I stepped into this room, I was stunned. As I scanned the room, this is what I saw:

Empty boxes and wrappers of condoms just laying about

Obviously used condoms, both in the trash cans, and on the floor

An empty box of KY Jelly

An empty box of Astro-Glide

One condom that had a red coloration that I could tell was not originally on the condom

One little plastic cup that appeared to be filled with semen

After taking in my surroundings, the house keeper told me that I was going to help her with this room. I have to say, I hadn't laughed so hard in a good long while. For some reason, she did not find it as funny as I did. This tale ends with me not helping her with that room, and her being pissed.

Kids, if you are going to have a little sex party, and decide to have it in a hotel, please take care of your trash. While it is funny to think about leaving your "used paraphernalia" for someone else to deal with, it's just not nice. Or your could leave a nice tip for the house keeper. That might make it better.